


marks (on my face)

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [41]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Oneshot, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, adorable lesbians whoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: the one where color appears on your body wherever your soulmate first touches you





	marks (on my face)

Beau gets her mark at sixteen, and just like apparently everything else about her, her parents hate it. There is a large grey handprint across her left cheek, and her father, of course, spends her sixteenth birthday dinner telling her everything that’s wrong with the mark, about how  _ a daughter of a noble family should be above such things as physical disputes, but if anyone could manage it, of course it would be you, beauregard _ , and the night ends with her screaming at her mother and slamming the door of her room. 

She hates them even more, because- because they’re  _ right _ . Of course Beau’s a bad enough person that she’d make the first touch she gets from her soulmate a slap. Because who would actually care about  _ Beau _ ? So she decides,  _ fuck soulmates _ , and makes a point to sleep around with every willing girl in Kamordah. 

She can’t exactly forget about her mark, not with Xenoth bringing it up all the damn time, but she manages to sort of… ignore it. To not think about the implications, to make her eyes slide past it when she looks in the mirror. 

* * *

 

They’re in the middle of a fight, and Beau doesn’t see the hit coming until she’s collapsing, the world fading out. She doesn't know how long it is before she’s blinking awake, eyes opening to see Jester right above her, and- and Jester’s hand, right over her mark, cradling her face as she whispers, “Beau, Beau, hey, wake up, Beau, please, come on,” and her brain kind of melts, a little, and she reaches her hand forward to grasp Jester’s wrist and rasps, “Jes?” and the worry fades from Jester’s eyes only to be replaced with wonder.

Because now Beau is starting to feel a warmth on her cheek and under her hand, and  _ holy shit Jes is my soulmate _ , and Jester’s pulling her up and saying, “ _ After, okay? _ ” and then there’s a battle to get to, and she shoves the panicking bit of her brain into a corner and puts all of her focus on pummeling these assholes. 

* * *

 

After, she can feel the group staring at her, at the handprint on her cheek that’s full of blue and pink and white all faded and mixed together like paint, and the fingerprints on Jester’s wrist that are filled with shining teal and cobalt blue, and the two of them walk a little ways from the camp, for privacy.

Jester looks like she’s going to say something, but Beau’s stupid mouth gets the better of her and she says, “I’m sorry,” and Jester whips her head up, with a fierce look on her face. 

“What? Why are you sorry?” she says, and there’s something like a growl underneath her words.

Beau rubs the back of her neck. “I mean, I know I’m probably not your first choice- y’know, your whole… thing with Fjord, and that, so-” before she can finish, Jester has lunged forward and pressed her lips into Beau’s with enough force to have Beau stumbling a little into the nearest tree. 

After a few seconds, Jester pulls away, purple eyes bright, and smiling widely. “You are a  _ wonderful _ soulmate, and I’ve wanted to do that for weeks!”

Beau stands there, gaping, as Jester chuckles, and then leans in again. 


End file.
